My team air dropped into the elasticsteel.com compound and immediately encountered resistance from the elite typo corps. Here's a still from the video feed we sent back to HQ:

The War Machine's comment: "WOW! Supper strength? That's more powerful than brunch strength for sure. But nothing can compare to the power of my ultra battle meals, or as some call it, afternoon tea."

But that wasn't the only text we'd have to face. They also had testimonials from customers who were as dumb as the site's writers:

Now normally it would be assumed that stretches would help you improve flexibility, but that pales in comparison to "By making my... buttocks looser, I rarely get the pain." One day someone will ask me what my favorite literary quote is, and I'll say it was when some idiot on elastic steel talked about stretching their butt.

Hedgeog Hair Harry's comment: After this I spent the rest of the mission day dreaming about the Goatse guy.

My musings on innuendo were halted when the site's owner attempted to launch himself like an arrow at us, as I guess he's doing in this image:

Luckily, The War Machine took the hit and sacrificed his life to save me after muttering something about how hardcore he was. Shalkar quickly avenged his companion by turning the guy who wrote this:

"After a month of kick specific training, the power of my kicks have improved."

Into a meat popsicle and devouring him, commenting as he did "No shit, assface." We continued our infiltration after this, but were soon ambushed. Tragically, Hedge Hog Hair Harry was captured, had his hair cut Aslan style, and was put on some crazy torture device that turned his ass into a dark watermelon.

I called our team back and began to regroup. I took out the dossier on the owner of elastic steel to see what I could come up with. He didn't have any purple hearts or citations, and he wasn't played by Marlon Brando, but there was some interesting stuff:

Ming Li The Jem Studded Nose Holder, still sobbing over the loss of the chap who likes to jam his nostrils halfway through her cheek, asked me how the communists could stop martial artists. I had to agree that this was a hole in the story. I mean, you can make as many laws against Chuck Norris as you want, but he's still going to rock your face. I do like the fact that we only get one sentence as proof of his achievement. Although if it could be combined with some of the customer comments it would rock to have someone actually write in and say "Soon I excelled at stretching my ass." What I got instead was this:

"Paul quickly realized that although most wrestlers, boxers and fencers were
flexible, most could not do full splits or bring their feet well above their heads.
He knew that it was ok, since it is not the requirements of their sports.
However, ninety nine percent of the gymnasts and dancers can sleep while
having their legs in a full straddle."

Wow, those poor fencers. It sucks that they can't lift their feet well above their heads. Now that I knows he was participateds in teh boxing though I can forgive his spelling mistake. What I can't forgive are the methods he used to find out if dancers could sleep with their legs in a full straddle. And the usage of the number 99 incurs that he had to document the fucked up sleeping positions of 100 people to figure this out. Either that or he just pulled the stats out his well stretched ass.

I knew that if I could stop his ass stretching I might be able to save Hedgehog Hair Harry from his evil clutches. But then tragedy struck when Gemma revealed her true allegiance. She secretly poisoned me with some of this stuff from the elasticsteel.com store:

I had Shalkar, our resident biochemist, look at it and read some info on it that we found in a secret laboratory deep within the Zaichik bunker.

"As a martial artist I believe that if you can’t say something about some, don’t say anything at all." Came the cry from one of the elasticsteel customer comment ninja elite. Shalkar knew that he was the only one who could handle such a threat, and so he told me and Ming Li to go on, perhaps at the cost of his life. We stood in awe of Shalkar's bravery as he listened to his opponent spout more nonsense such as: "One day I was competing in a tournament in New York, and I saw an ad. in a locker room."

Shalkar's comment: I don't care how many ads that guy saw in the locker room, me and my shiny pants pwned his ass.

Afraid to hear any more we hurried on to the evil lair of Paul Zaichik. In an amazing battle that cannot be easily rendered with photos stolen from a combat dating site both Paul and Gemma were defeated, but Hedgehog Hair Harry was killed before we could save him. Ming Li and I fled the exploding base in an escape pod and by the time our employers found us we were deep in the act of painless ass stretching, which they all watched in amazement through the port hole. The End.

This article is dedicated to the memory of Gemma, who's sexy, sexy appearance almost made up for the fact that she poisoned me with Alpha-Galactosidase.